


Watching

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-09
Updated: 2006-04-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip watches Malcolm in the observation bay. (02/20/2006)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Beta: BIG THANKS to Kylie Lee for betaing and encouragement for a first time writer!  
  
AN: Credit where it's due. Quotes, in order: Virgil; two proverbs; Shakespeare, Henry IV; Aristotle; Epicurus; Bertrand Russel; Publius Syrus  


* * *

I like coming to the observation bay. It's a place to get away for a while, a place to sit and think without distractions. I can think about my engines, about specifications, updates, refits, crew schedules...

Who am I trying to kid? I can't get away from the distractions. They come with me—or should I say, _he_ comes with me. In my mind.

I don't know when he started to demand so much of my thought time. But thinking about Malcolm has become one of my favorite things to do.

Malcolm. At first I just thought of him as the uptight, paranoid, snooty British armory officer—a real pain, uncompromising, rigid, negative, defeatist...a real Eeyore. Then my opinion changed to include dry-witted, sarcastic, humorous. Not so much rigid as focused. Loyal. Committed. And deep. It hasn't been easy, getting to know Malcolm. But it has been enlightening, and now I find I am intrigued.

Well, speak of the devil. He walked in a few minutes ago. First he went to the window and just stared out. Then he fell onto the couch and just sat there. I thought about letting him know that I'm here, but something about his demeanor is holding me back. I think I'll just sit here in the shadows and indulge in another of my favorite things to do.

Watching Malcolm.

Of course anyone can see he's small—shorter than me. Muscular, but in a compact way. Dark hair, blue-gray eyes...Really stormy blue eyes, like the sea when a hurricane's heading my way. And his hair isn't brown. It's more like chocolate. Rich, dark, bittersweet chocolate. A face that is fine, sculpted, and noble, with a defined mouth. Soft-looking, pliant lips...

My thoughts have wandered. Malcolm is getting off the couch. I wonder if he'll see me here—but no, he's focused again. He begins to pace: twelve paces fore, about-face, twelve paces aft, about- face, and then it starts again, with twelve paces fore. Even pacing, he maintains that military bearing. I can hear him muttering to himself. Actually, it sounds kind of like he's arguing with himself.

Pacing. Like a cat. Not just a cat, a panther. A dark chocolate panther. Sleek. Controlled. Sinuous. Predatory. Sensuous. Look at the way he moves. I would love to...

I can't sit here. I feel...something. I have to go to him. I don't know how I'll explain just sitting here for so long, or why I've decided to reveal myself now. And there he goes: twelve paces fore, starting now. I'll just get up while he's facing that way.

Twelve steps, about-face.

And there we are, face to face. He looks me right in the eye and says something soft I don't catch.

I always though sneaking up on Malcolm would be a bad idea. Never thought it would get me kissed. Full, smack on the lips kissed. I guess I must have a dazed look on my face. Malcolm has a look on his face too. Aghast. Surely Malcolm couldn't be scared? Of me?

Kissing him back just seemed like the best thing to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Bloody man.

He is driving me absolutely insane. Being friendly. Taking time to make sure I feel included. A hand on my shoulder, a brush against my arm, that smile turned in my direction. I am going insane, abso- bloody-lutely insane. And I am sure he has no idea.

I enter the observation bay and relax a bit, just me and the stars. Maybe I can think. But looking at the stars reminds me of the twinkle in his eyes when he is teasing me mercilessly about something. The thought annoys me so much that I throw myself on the couch. Couch—I would love to have him here beside me on the couch. We could be sitting close together. I would put my arm around his shoulders, draw him closer...

Abso-bloody-lutely insane. I can't sit here. Even here, in the this quiet place, he gives me no rest.

I start pacing. Twelve steps fore. I have to tell him. If I don't, I will get no peace.

About-face, twelve steps aft. I can't tell him. I could never face him again. I don't want to hear his laughter—or worse, see his pity.

About-face, twelve steps fore. Coward. The Reeds are not cowards. "Fortune favors the brave."

About-face, twelve steps aft. Fool. "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." What if I lose his friendship?

Fore. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." I have got to do it.

Aft. "Discretion is the better part of valor." I have always liked discretion.

Fore. "It is possible to fail in many ways...while to succeed is possible only in one way." I don't want to prove my father right and be a failure. Of course—and I almost smile at the thought—this is probably one time he would actually prefer I fail.

Aft. "Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not." It comes back to that, doesn't it? Do I want to give up those touches and looks I _do_ get for the remote possibility of something more?

Fore. "To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead." I am tired of feeling partly dead. I want to be alive.

Aft. I am surprised when someone is in my way, and even more surprised when I realize it is him. Softly, I say, "While we stop to think, we often miss our opportunity." And then I kiss him.

He just looks at me. No response. I can feel the blood draining from my face. I should have known.

And then _he_ kissed _me._


End file.
